Inner Space

The human brain is an incredible thing. I have always been amazed at the way it works. If you think to yourself: “I need to pick up that pen so I can write things down,” you find yourself picking up the pen before you even finish saying the thought in your head. The speed at which pain sensors shoot emergency signals to your head when you try to take that little tray out of the toaster oven with your bare hands is unparalleled. But the thing that amazes me the most is how different all of our brains are. Some are good at math, others can hear music and instantly pick out the notes being played. Even the types of thoughts people have or how each person handles a situation is rooted in our brains. I find this extremely fascinating.

Some thoughts I feel however are pretty uniform. Things like:
Why am I me?
Why is my soul inside of this body?
Why can I see out of these eyes?
What is it going to be like to not be on the world anymore?
When I close my eyes for good, what is next for my soul?

Now I guess a lot of the answers to these questions can be answered by religious beliefs. But this is one of my points. By nature I am a very logical person. I can’t take every story I hear at face value or anything that is told to me on a daily basis for that matter. When I receive any type of information I run it through all sorts of filters, most of which I can’t properly put down in words so I’m not even going to try. I don’t even have to think about this process, it just happens. But allow me to drop this tangent and go back to the matter at hand.

Religion has always been a problem for me. I’m not going to lie, when I was little I never liked church. I thought it was long and boring and it prevented me from watching television or playing outside. Thankfully my family was not very religious and when I lived in the Bronx I didn’t go to church very often. As I got older and went through the machinations of communion and confirmation I found myself not really “buying into” the teachings of the church. I found out that a lot of past history, especially that which did not happen in front of a television camera, is all hear-say. History is written by the winners, or in some cases, the home team (see: Vietnam War teachings in High School). Personally I feel that if we can barely confirm history of the past 100 or so years, how can so many people be sure of what happened 2000 years ago?

It’s not that I have anything against religion. I admire people who are religious. I just have never been able to suspend my own logic for long enough to believe. I’m not saying that I don’t believe in God, I don’t know if I do or not. I’m sitting on the fence and until I see some proof, that is where I will stay. Now fate is another story. I would say I believe in fate, just not in the full extent. By saying that our lives are mapped out for us is basically saying that life is a giant Tivo’ed program. I believe more that everyone is given opportunities in their life and they decide what road to take. So I guess what I am saying is that life is more like a giant Choose Your Own Adventure book. Which is equally as silly, but I can live with that.

~~[]~~

I can’t make a post with out some lighthearted content….
Originally my next post was going to be a mail chain showing just what kind of mind numbing stuff we email back and forth to each other all day. However, as I was editing all the emails (more than 500 a week) I found that it was about as fun as syphilis. So I gave up. I think we are going to hire some interns to go through this stuff one day.

Currently in the License Plate Contest I have taken the lead at a grand total of 41 after seeing Alaska at the Palisades Mall this evening. Tara and Amanda are trailing by a near insurmountable margin with a total of 40 and 40 respectively. Ok literally as I finished writing that last sentence I received a call from Amanda and I figured she would be commenting on the five-minute message I left her after I found Alaska…..But NOOOOOOOO she just found Kentucky so she and I are still tied. Ballacks.

You know what I would change about myself if I could? Whenever I am making a big purchase, for the story’s sake lets say it’s a computer, I usually fall in love with one specific computer. That computer becomes the apple of my eye. Salespeople can show me all sorts of other computer which I test drive and we get along fine, and I can admit that it’s a great computer, but it is still not THE computer that I am in love with. I refuse to give in and buy any of the other computers. And I know if I don’t buy the computer I love, I will spend my days wondering about the computer that got away. This goes back to that whole brain thing. Stupid sophisticated brain.

So way back on Belmont Saturday, before we got to the highway I stopped off at the supermarket so that I could turn my loose change into money at the coinstar machine. On my bookcase in my room I have a Wendy’s cup and that’s where I put all my change. However, apparently over the last year or so change is not the only thing I put in there. So as I am dumping change into the machine, even more is being dumped back out at me, it’s uncanny. Dmo and I are standing there and it looks like my money is being counted then spit back out at me, which sounds great until the machine shuts it self off. When the store manager walks over and opens up the machine all the gears inside are all jammed by all sorts of golf apparatus. The manager is pulling all of this stuff out and asking: “What is this stuff.” I, of course, am playing dumb and acting like I have never seen anything like this before. So he gives me the receipt, I get my money and get out of there as quick as possible.

The Hero Dies in this One

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s